“I’m sure he does. But he also went through hell in Russia. Is he ready for something like this?”

Gabriel nodded. “He’s ready.”

Carter’s pipe had gone dead. He immediately reloaded it and struck a match. “May I point out that right now we are seeing everything Martin does on his phone and laptop computer? If your proposed operation in Geneva goes bad, we stand to lose everything.”

“And what if Martin decides to switch phones, or his security does a sweep of his laptop and discovers software that’s not supposed to be there?”

“Your point?”

“Our window into Martin’s world could close in the blink of an eye,” Gabriel said, snapping his fingers to illustrate the point. “We have a chance to get into Villa Elma cleanly. Given what we know about how close the Iranians might be to a weapon, it seems to me we have no choice but to take it.”

“You make a compelling case. But this discussion is moot unless Zoe agrees to go back in.” Carter glanced at Seymour. “Will she do it?”

“I suspect she might be talked into it. But the prime minister will have to personally approve the operation. And no doubt my rivals from across the river will demand a role for themselves.”

“They can’t have one,” Gabriel said. “This is our operation, Graham, not theirs.”

“I’ll be sure to give them the message,” Seymour said, gesturing with his eyes toward the MI6 man in the dining room. “But there’s just one thing we haven’t covered.”

“What’s that?”

“What do you propose to do if we actually manage to find the shipment of centrifuges?”

“If we can find those centrifuges…” Gabriel’s voice trailed off. “Let’s just say the possibilities are endless.”

CHAPTER 58

58

SOUTHWARK, LONDON

Gerald Malone, chairman and CEO of Latham International Media, brought down the ax at three p.m. the following afternoon. It came in the form of an e-mail to all Journal employees, written in Malone’s usual arid prose. It seemed that recent efforts to control costs had proven insufficient to keep the paper viable in its present form. Therefore, Latham management had no choice but to impose drastic and immediate staff reductions. The cuts would be both deep and wide, with the editorial division suffering the highest casualty rate by far. One newsroom unit, the special investigative team led by Zoe Reed, conspicuously managed to avoid any redundancies. As it turned out, the reprieve was a parting gift from Jason Turnbury, who would soon be joining the same management group that had just turned the Journal into a smoking ruin.